Frustration: A Labyrinth Comedy
by Sylistra the scholar
Summary: Toby has become quite the little traveler, and since that whole "you have no power over me" incident, Jareth can't just send the little trickster back home. Instead he has to ask for help from the one person who will blame it all on him. R&R please


**Language Disclaimer: Okay for those skittish wittle children who are offended by the occasional bad word, Use your mental censors so you can replace any bad words with 'frick' or possibly 'fudge' Such as this censored quote from the Boondock Saints:** "Frickin'- What the frickin'. Frick. Who the frick fricked this fricking... How did you two fricking fricks... FRICK!" **Not that it's going to get **_**that **_**bad…but after awhile the common colloquialisms of modern times are going to bleed through into my writing when I use modern day characters. And since Sarah is a relatively modern character, and while mildly, she does curse in the film, I think she is entitled to a little cursing. **

**Disclaimer: Do not own Labyrinth, Lewis Carroll, Hobbiton, Rivendel, or the Old Gaffer, and any other references that might pop in.**

Sarah was having the strangest dream. A dream so random that _Lewis Carroll_ himself would gape at her thoughts, and take notes for his next book. The dream was surprisingly pleasant despite the randomness. One moment she was the leading model/actress/writer/political leader, and the next she was shopping for groceries in a zombie infested store. She dreamt of Elizabethan ages, and dreamt of piracy. She dreamt of her Labyrinth, and her friends. She discovered Atlantis and met Aliens. And now she dreamt of enjoying _elevensies_ with some hobbits.

It was strange, it was random, and it was being interrupted. While listening to the ongoing mess of things in the Shire, she felt this odd poking sensation on her left calf. She ignored it at first, determined to hear the rest of the old Gaffer's tale, in hopes that Gandalf would come swooping in with an adventure. However that constant poking was simply persistent in ruining her dream. In fact it was adamant on destroying it, poking harder and causing her leg to involuntarily shake. It looked simply ridiculous. However the old Gaffer paid it no mind, so neither did she. She ignored it, kept on dreaming, because that is what she does. Sarah dreams.

However the old Gaffer's story seemed less and less entertaining while Sarah's shaking leg gained the attention of half the Shire. Sarah sighed, _dream ruined_…she thought. She allowed her consciousness to begin rebooting. She stretched stopping the shaker and their annoying leg shaking. She popped one eye open as she glared at her alarm clock, and growled.

"Alright, here is the best I can surmise of this situation we have found ourselves in Leg Shaker. It is 3:00 AM so forgive my groggy slurring…" Sarah began as she kept her eyes closed, "If you are Toby, I suggest you stop acting like it's Christmas when it's June. Go back to bed. If you are Karen, put the bottle down, go to sleep, and _no one will ever know_," Sarah paused waiting for a reply, "Now, I doubt you are either of those people because of your silence. If you are robbing my house, I have a gun. A gift from my dear daddy, also if that's you Dad- remember I have a gun. Don't make me use it. If you are stalking me, I will flash you if it will get me back to sleep," Sarah groaned, earning a small snort, "however, all goblins, fireys, Spanish _or_ English speaking magical hats, soldiers, dwarves, beasts, foxes, brownies, fairies, pixies, nixies, dragons, demons, possessed tickle-me-Elmo's, hobbits, gnomes, sirens, satyrs, harpies, vampires, zombies, ghosts, ghouls, elves -drow or not, fae or sidhe - whatever you go by, or _Goblin Kings_," She said with a great deal of emphasis, "leave now, while I still feel _generous_ enough in sparing your life."

Sarah mentally counted to three, listened for a break in the silence, and then proceeded the easy drift back into dreamland again. In rapid time she was already entering her REM stages, and she felt herself returning to the Shire. She was so close, she even heard the old Gaffer's voice- until she heard another voice. One that was laughing. It was a haughty, annoyingly arrogant and a regretfully familiar laugh.

_Oh for the love of Christ_, Sarah thought, _well I might as well have fun with this_…

She could sense the intruder's laughter and his gloved hand shaking another of her limbs. With a hidden smile Sarah waited until she barely felt the cool leather grazing the skin of her arm. With rapid reaction time her arms flailed to the intruder's wrists, seizing them. She maneuvered herself off of the bed, pushing the intruder off balance. The two fell backwards with a loud thump, and Sarah straddled the pinned intruder with a huff.

"What the _fuck_ do you want?" She all but shouted at the -still chuckling- prisoner.

The prisoner whose identity was quite obvious to Sarah, though admitting it annoyed her beyond all reason, stopped his incessant laughing. Sarah could sense the tension in his body, his aggravation was tangible, and she felt him shift under her. Before she could adjust to his newfound strength, Sarah was already pinned on her back staring at her intruder, bathed in moonlight.

"Not…fair," Sarah groaned feeling the makings of a bruise on the back of her head.

The man chuckled again, leaving Sarah flushed and furious.

"Sarah, Sarah, Sarah…must we revert to our former selves?" Jareth inquired earning a frustrated whimper from his captive.

"I reiterate your highness, what the fuck do you want?"

"Tsk, such language," Jareth chided.

"It's three in the morning, and I was having a marvelous dream, deal with it," Sarah paused for a moment, her lips quirked, "bastard." Jareth chuckled in reply.

"Go on keep laughing, keep laughing while I get my Ardduc, keep laughing when I charge you on two counts of breaking the Escheat. Maybe three if I play my cards right. You can laugh all you want when your sovereign sticks you in between the realms until I die," Sarah screeched, Jareth's laughter was cut short.

"You don't know of what you speak, little girl," The king hissed.

Counting on her fingers, Sarah replied with a glare, "you prevented me from dreaming, I am no longer replenishing the font, you assaulted me, here I am pinned. For all I know you are trying to kill me, just taking your sweet time. Hmm let me think, Right of Life, Right to Dream…those are some serious offenses your majesty." Sarah replied with a mischievous smirk.

"No proof."

"I'm in law school, best in my class and will work at a prestigious firm where my father is already partner. _Try me_," Sarah beamed.

Jareth barked out more laughter again, "You would risk becoming, in your words, my 'sovereign's' chattel?"

"I'm single," she replied off handedly, Jareth narrowed his eyes, an almost jealous glint grew sharp, providing Sarah with an indecent shudder.

In a moment of awkward silence, Jareth weighed the pros and cons of rising, thus allowing this violently frustrated girl on her feet. He felt her shuffle relentlessly and nowhere near swooning, the king sighed charmingly as he rose to his feet, pulling up the girl with him.

"Thank you," Sarah muttered, reaching toward her bedpost, removing the robe that hung there. She slipped it on, snuggling in the warmth of it. Jareth gave her a peculiar look.

"I'm cold. Don't judge me," Sarah warned tying the belt of her robe in a lopsided bow.

"Wouldn't dream of it." Jareth replied, making the terrible mistake of mentioning things related to sleep.

"Of course you wouldn't, neither was I in fact. I was dreaming of the Shire, Jareth, the _Shire_. **Hobbiton**. My mind's favorite vacation spot, second only to Rivendel…Lothlorien is too much like camping. However, I do thank you for rescuing me from a boring long-winded tale about farming…compliments of the old Gaffer…" Sarah trailed off. Jareth just gawked with amusement.

"What? Oh…um, I'm not sorry. It was a really vivid dream."

"Never would have guessed."

Sarah sighed heavily, "Did you know that sarcasm is the weakest form of wit? Hmm a pity, one would think with all your years you would merit a challenge against the likes of me," Sarah replied with a petty smirk.

"Little girl, do not toy with me, this is not something that will end with a phrase from one of your fairy tales."

"Look buster, I was asleep. You woke me up. I don't like waking up, especially at three in the frickin' morning. So if I come across as disrespectful or petulant, color me surprised! If you have a reason for being here, explain yourself, if not…I'm going to sleep. Good night," And by finalizing her point she climbed back into bed, nonchalantly sliding a hand under her pillow.

"Sarah, the gun isn't there," Jareth tsked.

Sarah didn't even blink, "I can feel under the pillow. I know it isn't there, I keep it in a safe near my panty drawer. And _that_, I keep under my bed. Which…now I have to change its location considering I just told my magical stalker where I keep my undies. Damn it."

"Hmph, what do you take me for?"

"I don't take anything from you, I **think** you are a voyeuristic pervert who stalks little girls and hopes they wish their siblings to you. After said wishing you ensue glittering everywhere, poisoning your opponent, dressing him or her in poofy dresses that make _Teen Witch_ look tasteful, and then threatening them with some creepy Persephone-like marriage," Sarah hissed before banging her head in her pillow. _Kill me, kill me, kill me_, she thought.

Jareth was silent, yet seething.

"Can I go to sleep now?"

"What did you mean by… 'flashing'?" Jareth inquired.

Sarah's eyes popped open wide at the thought, "Nothing. Nothing at all. You know, _nothing, nothing tra la la_."

"Well it must have meant something, after all it is worth going back to sleep…"

"Go away now."

"Not until I get as you call it 'flashed'," Jareth retorted with a wicked smirk.

"Really, _really_, are you that perverted? No. Never. I will not flash you…do you even know what that means?"

"Tell me what it means."

"Ah…no. It's called a dictionary. Go to your local Goblin Library," Sarah replied turning away, covering her face with the blankets. _He's making me beet red_, she thought.

Jareth held a puzzled look, but replaced the confusion with aggravation. He breathed deeply, gave the bridge of his nose a strained pinch, and then spoke.

"Sarah, we have some things that need discussing."

"Oh for the love of all that is holy, go away," Sarah whined.

"It's about Toby," Jareth warned.

At the mention of the "T" word, Sarah bolted up on her heels and fisted Jareth's shirt, accidentally tearing part of his collar.

"Dearest, as much as I enjoy the thought of you tearing the shirt off my back in a fit of passion, now really isn't the time," wolfed Jareth.

"What about Toby? Tell me now before I suddenly remember there is a solid iron poker within arms' reach," Sarah growled as she nodded her towards a fireplace poker that rested next to her bed. _Paranoid chit_, Jareth thought.

"Now Sarah, is that how you treat your allies?" he crooned.

"Stop delaying the inevitable, what is wrong with Toby?"

"He…bullocks I am regretting the impending conversation already, he is in my Labyrinth," Jareth answered almost timidly. And his trepidation was with good reason, Sarah tensed. Jareth held his breath, the only sound heard in the room was the cracking of Sarah's knuckles. Her temple pulsed, and the vein was visible from her rage.

"Do. You. Know. Where. He. Is?" Sarah strained, saying each word carefully as if she was holding onto her very sanity, which was depleting by the second.

Jareth sucked in a deep breath, he was _scared_. The fact that _he_, of all creatures was scared answered Sarah's question, and she released her grip from his torn shirt, and despite the circumstances, Jareth magically repaired in mere glittery seconds.

"You don't know where he is…So why tell me? You want my help, my forgiveness? What?" Sarah asked, as she began a frantic pace.

This part was quite possibly even harder for Jareth, "I need your," Jareth paused, "help," he gritted out. Sarah gave him a wayward glance as she paced. Her hands were poised on her hips, and her knuckles were white as she gripped the flesh. Pain wasn't registered. When she took note of Jareth's regretfully innocent face, she let common sense slowly drift through the waves of rage.

"Of course I will help you," Jareth looked relieved- Sarah continued, "However, you realize that if Toby is anyway harmed…I will kill you. Not beat you, not merely annoy you, but kill you." Sarah growled as she paced.

Jareth glowered at the threat, and before the angered girl responded, he rushed her. On hand gripping her wrists, the other on her collar bone, he forced her to the nearest wall. Sarah gulped with sudden fear before the king spoke.

"Understand this you overbearing, arrogant, assumptive _cow_," Jareth spat, much to Sarah's offense, "I was in no way related to young Tobias' midnight escapades. It is _you_ who wished that your friends could see you at any time, it is _your_ fault that _your_ mirror is now a portal into my realm, and it is _your_ fault that he has access to it by moving that vanity table into the attic. And because I no longer _have power over you_, I cannot counter any spell or wish you enact. So, _precious_, quit blaming me for _your_ shortcomings."

Jareth finished chastising Sarah and released the girl with a self-satisfied smirk.

Rather than retorting as she often did, Sarah sighed. He was right. _Ouch_. The Goblin King was right. Sure she may eventually shift the blame back toward Jareth, but honestly it would only lead to another argument.

"So…how come you can't find him?" Sarah asked.

"Well I can't scry on either of you. Really the only way I noticed Toby in the first place, was that I keep tabs on my portals. Since you own one, I ensure it stays in the right hands. I know when the portals are activated, and where they are located…but yours is constantly activated so it's difficult to track," Jareth explained, regaining a calm temperament.

"And let me guess…it only works when someone says the words 'I need you'?" Sarah asked.

"No, it only works when you want it to. Magic is connected with emotions, words have power only because of the emotions behind them. Your anger caused your wish, as well as your longing created the portal. Words are the convenient form of conveying the magic. It is rare for mortals to possess this ability, but it's happened several times before."

"That makes sense, sorta. Explain it again later. So … I must travel through the portal, find my brother…and then bring him home. Gotcha. Is there a time limit this time?" Sarah inquired.

"Even if there was, I alter time," Jareth replied with a smirk.

Sarah's lips quirked appreciatively. Thinking, she sat down on her bed and stared at her feet. _Ready for another round? _She asked the green painted toenails, _Yeah, neither am I_.

"Well I should get dressed. And don't peep…because frankly I enjoy being civil with you," Sarah commented as she went through her closet, and shut the door behind her. Jareth stared at the door, narrowing his eyes as he heard shuffling. Suddenly there was a thud, and a muffled curse.

"Are you alright?" Jareth asked, worry lightly resonated in his voice.

"Forgot that there was a wall there," Sarah replied.

"Why would I not be surprised if she was serious?" Jareth muttered under his breath.

"Okay I'm almost ready, but I need a few things," Sarah mentioned as she stepped out of her closet, dressed in travel clothes.

"Really I can provide ev-" Jareth began.

"Yes I'm sure you can, but I. Am. Paranoid. For all we know someone could hurt him, as well as _you_. And If you can't cast magic, I still want to be prepared," She said as she began filling an old book bag with a spare set of clothes.

"Come on, you can't just stand in my room all day, it's silly and awkward. Go ahead into the attic, I'll be up there in a moment."

The moment Jareth disappeared from sight, Sarah's emotions pooled through her calm façade. Anger, fear, and worry shook through the girls veins. She rushed downstairs into her kitchen, tossing bottles of water and granola bars into her bag. She thrust open drawers yanking away flashlights, batteries, duct tape, lighters, and matches. _Rope_, she thought, _I need some rope_. Silently she dashed into the house's garage. She found several different types of wire and rope. All of which were useful, but rather than dallying any further, she grabbed the strongest looking that could fit in her old schoolbag. _What else…Oh, I almost forgot_, Sarah thought. She went into the adjacent downstairs bathroom. And placed two rolls of toilet paper into the bag.

Taking a deep breath, Sarah began a slow process of calming down. She was frantic, and frantic did not mesh with her survival. Within a few short minutes of breathing exercises, she regained her senses. She had the basics…but she was missing something. If anyone could get in a dangerous situation it was Toby. With an uncomfortable sigh, Sarah went back into her room. She crept down onto the floor, sliding under her bed. Pushing away a small wardrobe, she lifted a few hardwood panels, revealing a safe box with a combination lock. She hoisted it out from safe keeping, and sat cross-legged in front of the safe.

"13 to the left, 10 to the right, 3 to the left again…_bingo_," She whispered as the lock popped open. Removing it with reluctance, she gingerly opened the lid. Laying inside was a gun. A .50 caliber Desert Eagle and a handful of magazines, each carrying eight rounds. Placing two magazines in her pocket, the rest in her bag, she tucked the weapon into a holster on the small of her back. Afterwards, she went to the nearest bathroom and stuffed a first aid kit in her bag. With a nod, she strode into the hallway, pulling down a hanging set of steps that led inside the attic. As she climbed she tried not to think of why she might need the gun.

"Really, that isn't necessary. I'm sure Toby is fine." Jareth stated, referring to the bulging travel pack.

Sarah shrugged, not wanting another argument. Jareth's eyes glinted suspiciously when she favored her back awkwardly. _He probably doesn't want guns in his world. Better not let him find out_, Sarah thought.

"Fine, but I won't help you carry anything." Jareth replied.

"I never said that I needed you as my bellhop," She huffed, _anymore assumptions like that and I may have to release my inner feminist_, she thought.

Jareth didn't reply, instead he merely gestured the mirror, "Well? Sarah, proceed."

She remembered Jareth's description of her 'special powers' she thought of Toby and her desperate want to see him again. She expressed her wants, and fears. She channeled that emotion and glared into the mirror. She felt power surge and her head felt heavy.

Only nothing happened.

Jareth sighed, shook his head and muttered something to the effect of "amateur" before tapping the edge of the mirror as he glanced at Sarah with a haughty smirk. Sarah refrained from a glare as she watched magic ripple from Jareth's finger. The mirror seemed to liquefy, and magic rippled across the frame. Sarah gawked at her first sight of magic in several years (aside from that one trip to Las Vegas).

"Follow me," Jareth whispered as he hoisted himself - with surprisingly inelegance, onto the vanity table before falling back through the mirror. Alone, Sarah growled, and dove head first through the mirror, hoping the portal didn't open in the Bog of Eternal Stench.

**A/N: Okay in the beginning with the "**model/actress/writer/political leader**" the slashes are intended, because it's supposed to seem silly, corny, and even stupid. After all, This is still humor.**

** I am hoping to continue this. But I am awful at updates :S. **

**Teen Witch is a horrific 80s movie hoping for success after the Teen Wolf film. I couldn't watch it all the way through. If you like it, you are far more tolerant than me.**

** REM (rapid eye movement) stages of sleep is when the brain is most active during sleep periods, and this is when you usually dream.**


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